This morning (well, a few minutes ago and I haven’t quite made it to sleep yet), I got a comment out of the blue on one of my old posts Kiss More. I originally wrote the post because my power blogger friend (who wasn’t yet my friend) had mentioned that he would link to anybody who wrote a post about kissing right that moment. I wrote one, he linked to it, history, blah blah blah.
Point is, I just got a comment on it and in explaining how odd it was to get a comment on a post that old to a coworker, I read the post and realized I had accomplished all of my kissing goals. There were three, kiss a girl with a tongue piercing, kiss a girl with a lip piercing and kiss a girl in the snow. Turns out all of those got snagged by a single girl (although there’s a girl named Anwen that I was once standing next to in Utah while it was snowing whom I really really really wanted to kiss, but didn’t quite make it. We actually kissed fairly recently and she’s just the damn coolest but she lives really far away and you know how those things go), and her name is Cheryl. Hi Cheryl, I’m going to talk about you for a paragraph.
Cheryl is a girl I met in Vancouver, which interestingly enough is where the guy who requested the kissing posts lives. We met on LiveJournal, the most hip trendy place ever, and our first date was to go see Napoleon Dynamite. It was good, we stayed until the end and watched him tame a wild stallion. She was awesome, we went out to a few places, talked about stuff, she was an interesting person. Well, turns out she had her tongue pierced, her lip pierced and we kissed while it was snowing in Vancouver (I was actually broke and asked her to take me me out to dinner and we went to a place called Gyoza King were yoda stared at her) after I knocked her down into a slightly too shallow bank of snow — it’s okay, she’s tough.
I know, I know, kissing and telling, but Cheryl’s cool, she’ll understand.
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